


Sanctuary

by perlaret



Category: Inuyasha - Fandom
Genre: Drama, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-11
Updated: 2010-05-11
Packaged: 2017-10-09 10:10:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/86051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perlaret/pseuds/perlaret
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Time travel: it really screws everything up, doesn't it? After an unforeseen accident, the Kazaana disappears, and Miroku must make a difficult and important decision.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I: Existence

**Author's Note:**

> **Setting:** Set immediately between chapters 287 and 288 of the manga. In other words, shortly after Mt. Hakurei and (depending on how the story plays out) immediately before Miroku proposes a life together to Sango. Naraku has his new body. Kagome was briefly possessed by the baby while Inuyasha was looking for clues regarding Kikyou, who is believed to be dead. There is only one shard left that they don't know the whereabouts of.

_Welcome to the planet  
Welcome to existence_ _  
Everyone's here, everyone's here_  
_Everybody's watching you now_  
_Everybody waits for you now_ _  
What happens next? What happens next?_

\- "Dare You to Move" by Switchfoot

—

_He stared into the abyss, captivated._

_What now, he wondered, what now? What was his choice, his decision?_

_What happened next?_

_It all depended what he wanted more._

_He wanted life._

_He wanted to breathe air, to feel his lungs expand with each inhale and his heart to pump the blood through his veins, unfaltering._

_He wanted to see the years go by, to see his hair turn gray and then white with age, to touch his face and trace lines that hadn't been there before._

_He wanted children, to see them grow and smile and play and learn, to see them fall in love and have their own children._

_He wanted to take hold of the opportunities that were now possible, all but lying in the smooth, so-smooth palm of his hand like they never had before._

_But he also wanted more. That was his nature, wasn't it? So selfish, so demanding, so willing to risk everything for something he didn't deserve, that he'd never deserve. He was a fool for even wanting it, for desiring it alone when everything else he'd dreamed of was here, in front of him._

_Was he really willing to throw it all away for something he was so uncertain of?_

_He stared into the abyss, and it mocked him._

—

To the ragtag group of wanderers, the small village on the outskirts of the Mushashi domain was something of a sanctuary.

Had they given it much thought, it was a ridiculous notion. They lived in a time where war, chaos, marauding criminals and ruthless demons reigned. It wasn't a secure village. No defensive walls were erected for protection, even if walls could stave off an inhuman attack. Beyond the village in most directions, there were only flat and featureless rice paddies and crop fields as far as the eye could see, and on the other side, a strange forest from which any manner of villainy could emerge.

Yet, for all its faults, they still considered the commonplace little village their sanctuary. It was a shelter from the outside world they so often traveled, a place to sit down awhile and recuperate from any hardships they'd encountered.

Trouble, however, has a nasty penchant for arriving on one's front doorstep.

The usual group, two heads short, was gathered in a bright clearing near the outskirts of the forest, a short distance from the village's shrine. In the midst of that same clearing was a well, a weathered wood barricade built around it to ward off any possible mishaps. Despite that, there were few that would bother to seek it out these days, as it had long since run dry.

They, however, were not there for water.

"Calm down, Inuyasha," commented the only woman present from her spot on the ground where she was resting against the wooden barricade, "Can't you stop pacing? Kagome-chan will be back soon enough. You shouldn't act so anxious, just because she made you wait an extra day."

"I happen to agree with Sango," said the young man perched on the lip of the well. Although the seat afforded little comfort, he seemed enough at ease by the way he grinned faintly and how he slouched forwards, allowing a good fraction of his weight to be held up by the staff that he held against his shoulder. "I don't see why you let yourself continuously fall into this habit of irritability every single time she visits home. Shouldn't you have learned some degree of patience by now?"

Inuyasha finally paused in his pacing to give the monk a glare before returning to his pastime. "No one asked you, Miroku. Shut up."

Miroku let out a hefty sigh. "As I said, I was merely agreeing with Sango." He paused before craning his neck to peer down at the young woman seated near his feet, her knees drawn loosely to her chest. Kirara dozed in the shade a short distance away, curled into a fluffy little ball with her nose buried between her two tails. "By the way, why are you sitting on the ground?"

"Is there something wrong with it? We all sit on the ground at some point or another," Sango reminded him with a glance.

"Yes, but it's hardly comfortable." Snapping his fingers, Miroku set aside his staff and moved to sit besides her, settling into a cross-legged position. "Come, Sango. I can guarantee that you'll find my lap to be a much more suitable seat!"

"No thank you, Houshi-sama," she said coolly, eyeing him and his hands warily and leaning away slightly, though she wasn't inclined to scoot away quite yet. She shot a half-conscious glance towards her Hiraikotsu, which was leaning on a tree a short distance away. "I'll manage."

The monk sighed in a very put out manner, at which she rolled her eyes.

Inuyasha, who had heard the entire exchange, snorted in none-too-subtle disgust. He muttered something distinctly along the lines of, "You two are more annoying than Shippou…"

They ignored him, something they were quite adept at after the months' worth of practice they'd acquired traveling alongside him. Then, after several minutes of silence, Miroku turned back to Sango and began to tease her again, which caused Inuyasha to groan audibly and seriously consider jumping down the well to go find Kagome. At this point, he was quite sure that the risk of her annoyance was quite worth getting away from the little sideshow the monk had created with Sango. He could only thank his luck that the demon slayer was strong-willed enough to resist Miroku, something that prevented the monk's public displays of flirtation from becoming public displays of things the hanyou most certainly did not wish to see.

Inuyasha's thoughts continued along that line for a good while as he debated whether or not he should just take his chances with Kagome. Usually, bothering to weigh the pros and cons of a decision like this would be something he considered a waste of time.

This time, though, he had to take into consideration how unusually fragile Kagome's temper was. Given all that had happened lately - particularly Kikyou's apparent death at Mount Hakurei and how Kagome had fallen under the influence of Naraku's baby - he had capitulated to her request to stay an extra day in her time when he'd gone to fetch her the night before. Better that than risk riling her wrath and disrupting the tenuous peace between them.

Inuyasha wasn't too keen on that prospect. But, at this rate, even that might be worth it… and it wasn't like he had ever made it a point to obey her demands before. Besides, hadn't she been happy to see him anyway? And anything was better than listening to Miroku try to push Sango's buttons...

He sighed, trying to tune out the pointless banter being exchanged, and, after that split second, several things happened in succession.

First, Inuyasha realized that for the past few minutes, a certain scent had been on the light breeze. It was something that was all too familiar and ill-boding, and it was coming closer by the second. Fast.

Secondly, there was a cry of anger, followed by the crack of Sango's hand striking Miroku's cheek. Stupid pervert monk.

Then, as he tried to focus on the elusive odor, a much more prominent and diverting scent reached his sensitive nose; Kagome had returned. Scowling at the distractions, he reluctantly jumped down the well to help her out into the sunlight of the feudal era. When she saw him, the girl who doubled as the not-so-secret object of his affections immediately began to greet him as he took the yellow backpack from her hands.

"Shut up," he told her, grabbing her around the waist and launching them both out of the well.

"Excuse me?" Kagome said as he set her feet on the ground again, incredulous at the abrupt command.

He ignored her, looking at Miroku and Sango, who both had risen to their feet when he'd gone to retrieve Kagome from the bottom of the well. "Oi. Do either of you sense that?"

They exchanged a look at the unexpected question, but when Sango's brow furrowed just a bit and Miroku acquired a look of concentration, Inuyasha could tell that they were focusing their senses on finding what he had already smelled. It was the monk who nodded first. "I feel it. It seems as though a horde of demons is making its way here quickly," he said, confirming Inuyasha's suspicions.

When Inuyasha said nothing, Miroku shifted his gaze to Sango, who quirked an eyebrow before slipping off to go change into the uniform she typically wore in battle. Miroku wistfully watched her disappear into the foliage; he would have very much liked to follow her and watch her as she did so, but it was a goal he could hardly achieve with Inuyasha and Kagome present, never mind the present situation.

When Sango returned hardly a minute later, slinging Hiraikotsu over her back, Kagome was frowning and sending the occasional glance skyward. She'd found arrows and already had one ready in the bow. "Shouldn't we head to the village? The demons are usually most likely to attack there."

One of Inuyasha's ears twitched. "No. They're coming from in here, the forest, and from the sound of it, they're heading right towards us." He drew Tetsusaiga, his face wrinkling in disgust. Kirara, who had awoken from her catnap some time before, transformed into her larger form, responding to the tension that filled the clearing.

There was a crash, as though something large had pushed its way through some underbrush, and everyone tensed. The sounds grew louder, more frequent, and then—

Youkai of all sorts erupted into view, some fifteen to twenty of them. A few had the appearance of boars and oxen that could stand upright, others were plainly spider demons, and one or two were lizards that were twice the average height of a human man in length. Many were twisted and deformed, like things out of nightmares with no resemblance to any normal living creature.

At once, the awaiting warriors sprung into action.

Miroku fought alongside Sango, protecting her back as she did the same for him. Hiraikotsu cut through the air, ripping and slicing demon flesh as it circled through the air, and his sutras glowed dimly in the sunlight. It was something that came easily to them, this moving together that enhanced one's own skills without hindering the other's abilities. They had mastered it soon after Sango had joined their little group, never even realizing what they were doing as it happened. They were a team within a team, much like Inuyasha and Kagome were, and neither ever found any need to question or otherwise discuss it.

The battle was going well. At one point, Inuyasha nearly used the Kaze no Kizu, but a yell from Kagome reminded him how near he was to the well. As rash as the half-demon could be at times, he wasn't stupid enough to invoke the wrath of Kagome, were he to destroy her only way home. Thus, he quickly changed his tactics and shredded the lizard-like youkai with his own claws, its dark, brackish blood splattering his haori.

Within minutes of that small occurrence, most of the attacking demons had been dispatched, and the only injuries sustained were a deep gash across Inuyasha's arm and a cut on Sango's cheek. As Miroku made a note to make sure her injury got tended to, no matter how shallow it was, a flash of movement caught his eye.

Another demon—a rather large and spider-like one—was charging towards Kagome from behind. Inuyasha, her usual protector, was preoccupied with two other opponents and hadn't yet noticed, which made it his job to protect his friend.

Giving Sango a shout to let her know he wasn't going to be defending her back anymore, Miroku leapt to Kagome's aid, raising his staff for a strike.

But he wasn't fast enough. He'd misjudged the demon's speed, and the demon crashed into him and then Kagome, sending them both flying through the air. As Miroku fell, he felt his head hit something hard with a crack. It sent a wave of pain lancing down his neck, but the landing that should have knocked the breath from his lungs didn't come.

His last coherent thought, in that breath of a second before he blacked out, was that he really should have hit the ground by now…

—

"Miroku-sama?"

His head felt heavy and ached with a dull throb, and all he could see was that it was dark. A moment longer, and he could feel something warm beneath him. It was…someone? In groggy confusion, Miroku wondered if he was back at Mount Hakurei, passed out from the strain of absorbing so much Saimyoushou poison and trying to carry Sango to safety. But, no… that had been nearly two weeks ago, hadn't it?

"Miroku-sama, please get off of me!"

He blinked, finally realizing both the fact that he had been spoken to, and also that he recognized the voice. "Kagome-sama?"

"Yes! Please, get off. You're really heavy!"

Obliging her, the monk rolled away quickly, trying to remember how they had gotten that way in the first place. Abruptly, he recalled the fight and the way the spider demon had knocked them across the clearing. They must have landed here, in this dim place, where he could hardly hope to distinguish anything from the darkness that pressed in. But where was here, exactly? He verbalized that question to Kagome, who had seemingly stood up and dusted herself off by the sound of her movements, something he had yet to do.

"I think… we're at the bottom of the well. She was quiet for a moment, and he could see her almost imperceptible silhouette move to what he assumed to be the well's stone walls. "My side of the well."

"What?" Miroku asked, more sharply than he had intended to. "How could that be? Only you and Inuyasha can go traverse through it."

"No," Kagome murmured. "It's too dark to be the Sengoku Jidai. I can usually see the sunlight or the moonlight when I'm there. We're inside our shrine's well house, I think. I don't know why, or how… You…" She stopped, then spoke again with a sense of direction in her voice, the uncertainty gone. "Come on, let's get back and figure out what's going on. Inuyasha and Sango are still fighting. Plus, I told my family I wouldn't be back for a while, so there's no need to worry them."

"Alright," Miroku agreed, still surprised. Idly, he wondered what it would be like to stay awhile, if this really was Kagome's era. She had told the group so many stories of what her time was like, and he wanted to see for himself the wonders that she had described in such amazing detail. But, no… He had responsibilities to attend to. He needed to get back to the fight, to leave the time traveling to Inuyasha and Kagome and make sure Sango hadn't gotten hurt while he was stuck at the bottom of this well…

'_But… Since when have you ever been responsible?' _whispered a traitorous thought, but he made himself ignore it. He did need to go back, to get back to… He didn't know where or what to, just that that his era was where he needed to be. Not for himself, not really, but he wasn't quite ready to be that honest with himself, not yet. Even so, he set his hands on the ground and pushed himself up, only to fall back with a cry of alarm.

Kagome started, almost letting out a surprised shriek at the sudden noise. "What is it?" she asked, recovering from her own shock and quickly dropping down to her knees to check on him. He couldn't see her, but he could feel her hand on his shoulder and her worried presence. He was worried too; scared, even.

"My hand." He stared at his cloth-covered right palm, trying to make it out in the blackness. "I put weight on it, and it..."

"The… Kazaana?"

"I don't know." Suddenly realizing the potential danger of the situation, he used his left hand to push himself up, nearly stumbling into Kagome as he did so. "If it is, I don't want to risk absorbing you or damaging the well. I need to get out." She nodded, even though he couldn't see her still, guiding him to the ladder she had brought into the well ages before to make it easy to get out. Swallowing down his fear, Miroku ascended it as fast as he could with only one usable hand. As soon as he reached the lip of the well, he pulled himself over and headed for the door, which was outlined by the late afternoon sunlight that peeked through the frame.

Knocking the door open wide, he pulled the cover from his hand, leaving on the beads that sealed its dangerous winds, and nearly fell over in shock.

"What is it, Miroku-sama?" Kagome called, lingering cautiously in the well house doorway and looking worried.

He stared at his palm, where instead of a depthless void, there was only a dark, lingering sort of bruise, all black and blue. But that was all.

Miroku swallowed, his mouth dry as he struggled to find the words he needed to speak. When they finally came, his voice was nothing more than a dry rasp.

"The Kazaana… It's gone."


	2. Part I: Existence

_Welcome to the fallout  
Welcome to resistance_ _  
The tension is here, the tension is here  
_ _Between who you are and who you could be be  
Between how it is and how it should be_

—

There was a _whoosh_ as Hiraikotsu cut back through the air. Sango caught the weapon with ease, reigning in its momentum and moving it to her shoulder in one fluid movement. She pushed her bangs from her eyes with her free hand as the demon she'd just exterminated fell to the ground in pieces.

"Well, that was easy enough," she stated with evident satisfaction, just as Inuyasha stepped up from behind, shaking a few drops of putrid-smelling blood from his claws in disgust.

"Feh," he muttered. "Small fry. Makes me wonder why they were here." He paused, looking around. "Oi. Where'd Kagome get to anyway?" He scowled and shouted out her name, but no response came.

Sango frowned, looking around. "Houshi-sama isn't here either. Maybe they're closer to the well?" During the fight, the two of them had ventured farther into the woods, chasing down some of the youkai that had slipped past their first attacks and heading them off before they reached the village. Inuyasha didn't answer, springing off towards the landmark, and Sango quickly followed.

She wasn't particularly worried about either of her companions, to tell the truth. Houshi-sama, for one, was resourceful enough (if not _too_ resourceful), and she had confidence in his fighting ability. The last time she'd seen him, he'd been running to lend Kagome-chan his assistance, who wasn't totally at a loss in a fight either, with her developing abilities as a miko and an archer. All in all, especially given the type and number of youkai they had fought, it was very unlikely that anything unfortunate may have happened.

At least, that's what she thought.

Up ahead, Inuyasha let an expletive fly, and a knot of apprehension coiled deep in Sango's belly. She didn't have to ask what was wrong, because she soon stepped into the familiar clearing and saw for herself why Inuyasha had cursed so violently.

The clearing been practically destroyed by the attack. There were deep gashes in the dirt that disrupted the otherwise green grass, and several trees had been toppled beneath the impact of a flying demon or one of their own attacks. Near the path leading back to the village, a bloated spider dead lay dead on its back, its legs still twitching grotesquely every few seconds, and Sango could see pieces of youkai carcass scattered everywhere.

Yet, none of that was what captured her attention the most.

There, in the center of the swell of clear land, the well was in shambles. The wood of its barrier was in splinters, scattered all about. She was just in time to see Inuyasha jump down into its depths, but the flash of light that usually followed his or Kagome's descent never came, and Sango crept to the edge, looking down. Inuyasha stood at the bottom, surrounded by rocks and looking cross. A moment later, he leapt back up, something held in his hand: Miroku's shakujou.

"The well is broken," he growled, then swore furiously. "It's not working, but both of their scents lead down there, and I found this down there." He tossed her the staff, which she caught and examined. It _was_ his. Suddenly, Sango felt sick.

"You think Kagome may have gone back to her time?" Sango asked, her grip tightening on the monk's weapon. Inuyasha gave a rough shrug as he moved around the well, inspecting it from all angles, his nose twitching as he searched for more clues. "But then, what about Houshi-sama?" she continued, trying to quell the uneasiness that crawled up her spine. "You know that you and Kagome are the only ones who can use the well. It doesn't let anyone else through."

"Yeah, well, his scent ends here, so who knows? Damn magic," he growled.

"But that doesn't make _sense_," Sango argued. "It doesn't work for us!" She knew that for a fact. Months before, when she had first joined the group, Houshi-sama had explained the importance of the well, advising her to avoid the area when Inuyasha was in a bad mood and waiting for Kagome to return. Later, they had visited the location, and Miroku demonstrated how it did nothing when he jumped in. She had even tried it herself, only to have to slap the monk when he'd groped her under the pretense of helping her out of the dark hole.

"Then where are they?" Inuyasha retorted, glaring at her.

"I don't know," Sango snapped, her temper beginning starting to fray. She knew that she needed to do something, rather than stand here and speculate. She lived her life by putting thought to action, not sitting around and wondering. "Why don't you go try and see if you can pick up another trail, and I'll go to the village and find some men to help repair the well?"

"Fine," he said, his irritation audible. He stalked over to a clump of bushes and pulled Kagome's backpack from them and tossing it to Sango. "Take this to the village." Then, he turned and bounded off without another word.

"Kirara!" Sango called, and the transformed youkai hurried to her side. The taijiya climbed onto the demon cat's back and Kirara jumped into the air, the wind causing the fire at her paws to flicker wildly. Sango gripped her companion's creamy fur to hide the way her fingers shook with worry. She allowed herself a brief moment of insecurity.

_'Kagome-chan,'_ she thought, wishing that her friend could hear what was on her mind, '_I hope that you are alright… Houshi-sama, if you or Kagome-chan are hurt, I'm going to slap you clear into next week for not taking care of yourself!'_

"Clumsy lecher," she muttered, more fondly than she realized, her fingers straying absently to the shakujou balanced on her lap.

Then, she took a deep breath and focused on the task at hand, for they had cleared the trees of the forest and Kirara was spiraling down to land in front of Kaede-sama's home. Sango dismounted Kirara as soon as her paws touched the ground, and she hurried off to gather assistance.

Miroku had fallen into a sort of daze, staring blankly at the world around him from beneath the Goshinboku tree, and Kagome really couldn't blame him. His now-bare right hand rested on his knees, palm upwards, and he would flex his fingers every so often, as if to remind himself that the curse was really gone. Kagome sat a short distance away, watching him occasionally and trying to figure things out.

After the revelation about the Kazaana, she had sat Miroku down and ran into her home to inform her family about what had happened. They had been surprised to see her again, as she had just left not an hour earlier and they hadn't expected her back for several weeks. After explaining, her mother had agreed to keep Kagome's grandfather inside of the house for the time being. Needless to say, now wasn't the time to let the old man needle her shocked friend with inane questions, as he would be apt to do upon discovering that an authentic monk from the past had come a-visiting.

She had hurried back to the well house, only to discover that she couldn't get through the portal. Three more attempts made no difference, and Kagome had been left with a frustration reminiscent of the time Inuyasha had shoved a tree down the well to block her path. She unhappily returned to Miroku's side and set about attempting to reason out what had happened.

Kagome sighed heavily as she settled beside her friend. "The well won't open."

"Hmm?" He glanced her way, his violet eyes clouded as though he were half-lost in a dream. They cleared as her words sunk in. "You mean you cannot go back through?"

"It's like last time. There must be something blocking it on the other side," Kagome sighed. She smoothed a wrinkle out of her sleeve, trying to hide the agitation she felt. While she loved the era she had been born into, with her home, her school, her friends and the whole world at her fingertips, being cut off from the world she had stumbled across not so long ago was disconcerting. She found herself worrying.

She and Miroku-sama were safe and sound with everything intact (for the most part), but what of their friends? They had been tossed through the well in the midst of a battle. Most of their opponents had indeed been relatively weak, but they hadn't been incapable of inflicting damage, and weak youkai had been used as diversions before. Kagome needed to get back through, if only to put her own mind at ease.

"I hardly think that this turn of events is anything like the past situation, Kagome-sama," Miroku said after a moment's thought, accurately guessing one source of her distress. "In fact, I believe it will be amended quickly, as the damage was accidental. Inuyasha won't hesitate to make sure the well is repaired. Besides, even if he did, he would have to convince Sango first..."

Kagome smiled a little at the thought. "That's true. I've always been able to get back through. It's something I wonder about though, each time I cross that ledge. What if it's the last time?" She paused for a moment, giving that idea to the breeze and letting it drift away. "This is different though. I've never been stranded here with anyone else."

"It _is_ unusual," the monk agreed, running his fingers over his palm again. "I don't see how it even became possible that I came to this time, save by a most unlikely and extraordinary coincidence. The perfect timing, if you will, of us falling through the well and its breaking at the exact same moment would seem the most likely explanation. However, considering the peculiar qualities of the Bone Eater's Well, there could possibly be a dozen other reasons why it _may_ have happened."

"To be honest," Kagome began, "I'm more curious as to why the Kazaana disappeared. Miroku-sama... Do you think that...that Naraku is dead?"

Miroku ran his fingers along the beads that still circled his forearm—there was a part of him that whispered that a permanent reprieve from the curse was too good to be true.

"I have been asking myself that same question. Again, there are too many possible answers. It could be a trick, for one, to make us believe that Naraku is gone. Or perhaps he truly is dead, despite his recent acquisition of so much power..." A thought seemed to strike him then, and he pondered it a minute before he voiced his question aloud. "Kagome-sama, how many years is it between this time and ours?"

She was puzzled at his question, but answered regardless. "The Sengoku Jidai was around five hundred years ago. Why?"

There was a moment of quiet.

The monk broke it with a laugh, but there was a bitter edge present that had not been there before. "Five hundred years is a very long, long time, Kagome-sama. If Naraku is dead, when did he die? Maybe it was earlier, and while we were fighting someone with greater power than him managed to strike him down, and I did not notice the Kazaana's disappearance until after I awoke from my unconscious state. Or perhaps it was this time's yesterday, or any day between then and now." There was a subtle note of frustration in his voice. "From here, we have no way of knowing the exact moment of Naraku's demise."

Kagome stared at him, then her hands, stricken.

"I hadn't thought of it that way," Kagome admitted past the lump in her throat. "You know, to wonder _when_ he dies. It's a goal that we all work so hard to achieve, and we've spent so many days and weeks and _months_ just following his trail while he stays one step ahead. Yet... he has never made any appearance in this era to attack my family or me—not even when the Shikon no Tama was inside of my body. So maybe we do succeed."

"Or someone does, at least," Miroku suggested, fisting his curse-less hand.

Kagome could have sworn she felt her heart break for her friend. What was it like, to have to stare death in the eye daily? As she thought of the ramifications, it was no wonder why this man chose to embrace life's pleasures so freely, as perverse and corrupt as some of those pleasures undoubtedly were.

Miroku was the embodiment of a man living each day as if it were his last.

The silence between them was stifling and awkward. Even the wind seemed to hush beneath the uncomfortable weight of it as the two friends contemplated the houshi's fate. Miroku seemed to break free of the heaviness first and shook himself. A smile—clearly forced—worked its way onto his face and he changed the subject.

"Forgive me for asking, but would you happen to have any food here, Kagome-sama? I'm a bit hungry."

She nodded, slowly rising to her feet and brushing a few blades of grass from her skirt. "I'm sure Mama is making something for dinner soon, and we probably have a few snacks in the cupboards. Since we're stuck here, might as well make the best of it." Kagome cast him a concerned glance. "Just so you know, my Jii-chan might want to ask you a lot of questions. I've already told him not to, but..."

Miroku nodded reassuringly, pushing himself off of the ground. "It's not a problem Kagome-sama. I'd be honored to meet your family." Kagome smiled in relief and beckoned for him to follow, which he did, careful to withhold the sigh that threatened to escape from his lips.

'_At the very least... I'll be glad for the distraction...'_

—

The well did not reopen that night.

It was clear that Kagome was agitated by the way she had excused herself from dinner twice to check it. She probably would have gone a third time had her mother not insisted she eat her food, alongside a gentle reminder that Inuyasha would announce his presence without any prompting from anyone as soon as the portal was fixed.

Privately, Miroku was thankful for it.

There was something about the idea of returning back to the Sengoku Jidai that repelled him. In all terms of what made sense, he knew that he should want to go back, to discover what had become of Naraku and whether or not his quest had been completed without him. A small part of him _did_ want that.

But there was another, greater part of him that completely rejected the notion of returning to his time. After all, if he were to pass back through to the well, back into reality, what would happen then?

The _what ifs_ were enough to make his stomach turn.

What if Naraku was still alive? If he returned, would the curse reappear?

What if it did? Would he ever be rid of the Kazaana again?

Would he die before he had a chance to?

Miroku sighed listlessly, staring up at the dark ceiling of the guest room Kagome's family had loaned him. The only light shone dimly through the window, a pale glow all that the lonely stars and waning moon could offer. Sleep eluded him as he debated what was and what could be, and he wondered if he had always been this full of doubt and indecision.

He held his right hand to his heart, fingers fisted against his palm.

'_What would it be like,'_ he wondered, _'to live every day as if there were a tomorrow?'_

The prayer beads he always wore clung to his wrist in a vise grip, glinting softly in the pitiless moonlight.

—

The next morning came all too soon and not soon enough.

"Good morning!" Kagome's mother called from the sink when the monk found his way to the kitchen. He couldn't help but think it was the most unusual room he had ever seen, a strange mixture of things that were recognizable from his own time and others that were completely foreign in nature. Kagome and the rest of her were already seated at the table. Feeling that remaining in the doorway would be awkward, Miroku returned the greeting and took a seat next to Souta.

The younger boy had been a bit wary of him the night before. It was clear that Souta more or less idolized Inuyasha, and Miroku's sudden appearance in the hanyou's place had aroused his suspicions. Once all had been explained, however, he had warmed up to the monk immediately, asking nearly as many questions of Miroku about life in the past as Kagome's grandfather had regarding spiritual matters.

"Did you sleep well?" Kagome inquired, taking a small bite of her breakfast. "You look a little tired, Miroku-sama."

"Very well," Miroku lied. He had barely slept at all, too wrapped up in his own clouded thoughts to find any rest. "I have to say that no daimyo's castle I have visited in all my travels is as comfortable as your home, Kagome-sama, and certainly none contained its wonders."

"I'm glad you—" she broke off as the room's shoji door snapped open, whirling around to see who was the cause of the sudden ruckus. Her eyes widened.

"Inuyasha!"

"There you guys are. I was—oof!" Inuyasha stumbled back a step when Kagome launched herself into him, hugging him tightly. He flushed darkly. "Kagome?"

"I was so worried!" she told him, her voice muffled against his chest. "When the well wouldn't let me through, I thought that it might be broken for good this time!"

Still rather surprised, the hanyou patted the girl on the back awkwardly. "Well, uh, it's fixed now. It got pretty trashed and took all night to fix, that's all..."

Kagome looked up, sniffling a little. "Inuyasha..."

And then both seemed to freeze, turning their heads slowly as they realized that everyone in the room was watching them with rapt interest. Completely embarrassed, they separated, curiously unable to bear looking at one another.

Inuyasha cleared his throat. "Anyway, the well is open again, so we can get hurry up and get back. We're already a day behind, and Naraku's not going to wait on us to find that last shard."

Kagome shot Miroku an unsure glance. "Yes, but—"

"Inuyasha's right," Miroku interrupted quickly, rising from the table. His mind was racing, and he knew that he wasn't ready for the others to know about the Kazaana. Not yet. "We should get going. Time is of the essence in this pursuit."

Hesitantly, Kagome nodded. She appeared to understand that, for some reason, he did not want her to reveal the state of his vanished curse. "Okay," she agreed. "Let's go."

They made their farewells quickly and made their way across the Higurashi Shrine's courtyard and into the well house. Inuyasha wasted no time in jumping down the stairs and onto the lip of the well, balancing there for a moment. He looked back at Miroku and Kagome as they descended the stairs. "Hurry up. We've got stuff to do."

That said, he disappeared down the well with a flash of light.

Kagome followed his trail to the barrier around the hole and paused, glancing towards Miroku, who lingered on the last step. "Miroku-sama, do you want to go first? We don't know if the well will let you back through."

She watched as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other and heard the hefty sigh that rushed from his lungs. And then—

"I'm not going back, Kagome-sama."

"What?"

"I am staying here," Miroku said, his voice carefully empty of inflection. He spoke his decision as if it were something outside of his own control, a mandate of the gods or a simple matter of unchangeable fact. His eyes avoided hers, and she followed his gaze to where it rested on the hand by his side.

So this is why he hadn't wanted her to say anything in front of Inuyasha.

"What do you mean, you'll stay here?" Kagome demanded, feeling an uneasy anger creeping up in her. "You can't do that. What about everything on the other side?" She gestured to the well next to her heatedly, but the monk made no response. So, she tried again. "What about our quest? Don't you want to make sure Naraku is really dead?"

A dry chuckle emanated from Miroku and he held up his uncursed hand. The outline of his empty palm was stark to Kagome's eyes. "The Kazaana is gone, isn't it?"

"What..." She was grasping at threads now, searching for something that might be able to shift his resolve. "What about Sango?"

Miroku frowned, something he didn't want to acknowledge and hadn't considered catching at the mention of her name. He found his mind pulling at the memories he had of her, of her hand in his, of the brush of her whisper as they conferred quietly, of her weight on his shoulders as he carried her from danger, of the curve of her bottom beneath his delinquent hand, of her tears on his cheek as she swore not to leave him to die alone... Miroku shoved the thoughts away, clearing his head of the rising confusion and ignoring the insistent pull in his chest.

"She's not a part of this," he told Kagome coolly. "Even if she was, she'd understand."

"Of course she's a part of this! Don't you know—"

He cut her off, stern. "You're not going to change my mind, Kagome-sama."

She shook her head in disbelief, a humorless laugh choking its way out of her. "I can't believe you, Miroku-sama. I thought…" The words faded in her mouth, and sad understanding dawned on her face. She, finally, had grasped his reasoning.

Kagome turned her back to him, lifting a leg over the lip of the well. When she spoke again, the vehemence was gone from her voice. "When the others ask where you are, I'm not going to lie to them."

And then she was gone.

Miroku released a breath he hadn't known he had been holding. Swallowing down the lump in his throat, he hardened his resolve and made his way to the place where both of his companions had vanished. The silence fell down around him and breathed guilt into his mind, settling around his shoulders like a heavy yoke.

Had he made the right choice?

Miroku stared down into the dark pit and was reminded of a darker one.


	3. Part III: Floor

_I dare you to move, I dare you to move  
I dare you to lift yourself up off the floor_ _  
I dare you to move, I dare you to move  
Like today never happened  
Today never happened before_

—

The clearing was quiet. The sun was still low in the sky, the soft morning light filtering through the trees and dappling the grass with patterns of shadow and sunlight. The day was already warming, slipping from the morning cool into the warmth of afternoon.

"They're taking a long time, aren't they?" Shippou inquired, balancing precariously on the ledge of the well. He stared down into the pit with consternation. The young kitsune was clearly impatient to see their absent friends and didn't try to hide it.

Sango gave him a small, somewhat indulgent smile from where she sat, leaning against one of the trees that bordered the cleaning. "Patience, Shippou. Inuyasha only left a while ago. I'm sure they'll all be back soon, and then everything will be back to normal."

Shippou made a face at the prospect of waiting, but after a moment's thought he hopped down from the well's lip and came to sit at her side. He sighed heavily. "Yeah. I just wish they'd hurry!"

The taijiya laughed at his put-out expression and ruffled his bangs affectionately.

"Shippou, Inuyasha's always in a hurry," she reminded him, teasing.

"True!" the kistune laughed, grinning up at her. "Kagome probably had to make him sit because he's upset we haven't left yet. Either that, or they're having trouble dragging Miroku away from flirting with all of Kagome's friends!"

Sango's eyebrows raised at that, and she lifted a fist to demonstrate her next point. "If that's the case, that houshi will live to regret it!" she exclaimed, only half joking. She was about to continue when a flash caught her eye from the direction of the well. A half-second later, Inuyasha had popped out of the well, landing easily on the balls of his feet. In a flash, Shippou was balancing on the hanyou's shoulder.

"Hey!" Shippou demanded, grabbing a lock of Inuyasha's hair and tugging firmly. "Where's Kagome?" With a grunt of annoyance, Inuyasha plucked him up by the tail and held him up at eye-level.

"She's coming," he said, before dropping Shippou unceremoniously to the ground. "Miroku too."

"They're both fine, then?" Sango asked, climbing to her feet. At Inuyasha's brief nod, she felt relief wash through her. Although she had done her best to remain optimistic, there had been no way to be sure that Miroku and Kagome had indeed ended up on the other side of the well. She had been ready to face that outcome if need be, but it had left her tense. Now, with the affirmation that both of their friends were well, she let herself relax.

Shippou gave a cry of excitement, bouncing where he stood. "Kagome's here!" However, his enthusiasm dwindled as Inuyasha helped her over the edge and he caught sight of her face. She looked like she was on the verge of tears. "Kagome?"

Inuyasha noticed too. "Oi, what's the matter? You were fine just a minute ago!"

The girl sniffled, looking around at her friends and clearly at a loss. She fiddled with a strand of hair, her gaze dropping to the ground. "I'm sorry. It's just…" Kagome took a shaky breath, then raised her eyes directly to Sango. "Miroku-sama isn't coming back."

Sango stilled, her heart suddenly dropping. _What?_

"What do you mean, Kagome?" Shippou asked, his eyes wide as he stared up at her.

Kagome wiped her eyes, which were starting to water up with tears. "I was just talking with him," she said quietly. "He's decided that he doesn't want to return. He wants to stay in my time."

"Keh!" Inuyasha snorted. "We'll see about that!" he growled, making his way back towards the well.

Kagome snapped.

"Osuwari!"

Inuyasha swore violently, his voice muffled by the ground. Straining against the spell, he raised his head to glare at her. "What do you think you're doing?" he yelled.

"You can't force him to come back," Kagome told him, crouching down closer to his level. When he opened his mouth to contest that point, she kept going, her voice softening again. "Inuyasha… His Kazaana is gone."

"Eh? So Naraku's dead?" Shippou asked waveringly. The thought of losing Miroku had never occurred to him, but he didn't want to risk upsetting Kagome any more.

"We thought about that," Kagome admitted, sighing. "But I live 500 years in the future. That's a long time, and who knows when or how Naraku might die. There's no guarantee that the curse wouldn't return the moment he came back."

Sango listened to the conversation mutely, trying to sort out her own reaction to the news. Her heart was twisting with disappointment and something like betrayal. She knew better than to think that she had any claim on the monk's affections, but that didn't stop the half-acknowledged hopes and persistent emotions from rising up and locking her heart in a vise grip.

Even if there was nothing between them, she reasoned, he was still her friend. He was the one, despite her growing relationship with their other friends, who she was most able to turn to; to talk to, to laugh with, to fight with. She felt the loss acutely.

"Sango-chan." Kagome's voice interrupted her thoughts, and she looked at the younger girl wordlessly. Her expression was filled with sadness, even a little pity. "Sango, I'm sorry. I tried to talk Miroku-sama out of it, but…"

"Why?" Sango inquired, finally finding the will to speak. "He's doing the right thing."

Kagome clearly hadn't been expecting that response. "But Sango-chan…"

Sango quavered fleetingly, but she shoved her doubt aside.

"Hasn't enough of his family died?" she bit out. "If he wants to live in your world - without the Kazaana - it's not our place to question his choice." She turned away, made uncomfortable by the way her friends were watching her. Her voice softened. "He deserves happiness just as much as anyone."

Her words hung heavy between them; Sango left them there, turning and walking away.

—

The morning passed. Noon came and went.

Miroku sat on the stairs of the shrine, staring moodily at the empty well. He'd been there in the shadows for hours, arguing with himself and wrestling with his doubts until falling into a sort of stupor, physically and mentally exhausted.

He didn't know where to go from here.

Miroku was not a man unacquainted with uncertainty. To even know where he would rest his head each night was as much an unknown as whether he might survive the next battle. Yet, when one is living against the onward crush of time, the unknown was less frightening than the otherwise inevitable.

Miroku knew one thing. He didn't want to die.

The admission, silent though it was, stung of cowardice. For all of his reasonings and justifications, that was the heart of the issue, pumping its lifeblood into each and every reason he had for nothing going back. He didn't want to die, and he was willing to walk away from his friends, his duty, his _vengeance_, all for the sake of living.

He couldn't even claim to do it to live for the opportunity to fight another day. It was simple. Miroku knew he was choosing a life of comfort, here in a world half a millennium away from everything he knew, a life where the shadow of death didn't hover at his doorstep like a blade pressed against his neck. He was tired of the risk, of journeying and searching and worrying in the dark.

His search for Naraku had begun long before Kagome fell through the well and awoke Inuyasha from his sealed slumber. Would it really be so wrong if he stopped now and let them finish the work he'd begun?

Miroku held his right hand at face level, examining the way the light from the open door illuminated his bare palm, and his mouth twisted wryly. He really was a coward, wasn't he?

"Miroku-sama?"

He started from his reverie and turned to face the source of the interruption. Kagome's mother stood at the top of the stairs, framed by the light shining through the small shrine's doorway, and she watched him quizzically. Miroku internally chastised himself. He had been so preoccupied with his own troubles he had never spared a thought to the imposition he might be on his friend's family. It was an obvious consequence and an unforgivable oversight.

"Good afternoon, Higurashi-sama," he greeted, hedging in the frustration and weariness that he felt. She returned the greeting.

"I didn't realize you were still here," she continued. A frown crossed her features. It wasn't an expression of annoyance or displeasure, Miroku noted with some surprise, but one of concern. "Inuyasha and Kagome are gone - did the well not let you back through?"

Miroku hesitated, an easy lie on the tip of his tongue. It felt unusually cheap, the idea of swindling Kagome's family, and he wasn't sure he could stomach himself if he did. "That's…not quite it," he admitted, haltingly. He felt Mrs. Higurashi's curious gaze more than he saw it, and, taking a risk, forged ahead. "It was my decision."

It was quiet for a moment.

"Because of your curse?" she queried.

Miroku straightened and twisted to look at Kagome's mother more fully. "Kagome-sama − she told you?"

The woman smiled gently and, after a brief pause, stepped forward and came to lower herself to sit beside him on the stairs. "I hope it wasn't a betrayal of your trust," she said momentarily.

"No," Miroku decided after a short reflection. He was unexpectedly grateful to have the decision removed from him: he neither needed to broach the subject nor find some way to avoid it. "I suppose it is expected that a daughter would confide in her mother. It was fair, considering my imposition on your family."

Mrs. Higurashi laughed a little. "We've come to expect the unexpected with Kagome's adventures," she said lightly. "It's no trouble." The look she gave him next was thoughtful and very kind. "Miroku-sama, you are welcome here if you want to stay. Kagome has told me what kinds of things you face in your time, though I suspect she often edits what she says to keep me from worrying, and I know you have had a hand in keeping her safe. We won't turn you out."

"Thank you," the monk said, the words coming slow. Such open hospitality made him feel unsettled − and completely undeserving of any such graciousness. It was wretchedly humbling. "Still, it would be wrong of me to inconvenience you in such a way…"

"You plan to return then?"

Miroku's fist clenched, his mouth drawing into a thin line as he returned his eyes to the Bone Eater's Well. "I don't know," he muttered at length, hating his indecision. He couldn't remember the last time when he had been so at odds with himself, and so unable to settle. He'd been faced with situations before where his only options were bad options, but this was the first time in a long while that Miroku found himself unsure as how to proceed.

Kagome's mother nodded in acknowledgement, following his gaze to the wooden structure at the center of the shrine. "There's something holding you back?" It was almost a statement, but not quite. Miroku could feel her words were more than an observation; she was giving him the opportunity to speak his mind, but only if he desired to.

"The Kazaana that plagues me consumed both my father and my grandfather. They spent their lives hunting down Naraku, seeking to kill him and and break the curse. It is my responsibility to avenge them and…" Miroku paused momentarily, then picked up on a different line. "Killing Naraku was supposed to be the only way to do so, and thus end the Kazaana."

Mrs. Higurashi shifted in her seat, drawing her arms up to rest on her knees. "Naraku… he seems very dangerous."

"Yes, you could say that," Miroku agreed, before giving the woman a closer look. "You worry − about Kagome-sama."

She smiled at him then, a little bemused but still kind. "Of course I do. Kagome is my daughter, and still young. In this time, she isn't even considered an adult yet, but she's still out fighting nightmares and coming home with bloodstains on her clothing. It's the sort of thing that makes a mother's imagination run wild in the middle of the night."

"Inuyasha takes her safety very seriously," Miroku observed thoughtfully. "He's put his life on the line many times for her sake."

Mrs. Higurashi nodded. "Yes, I know. I suppose that's why I let her go. Inuyasha is rough around the edges, but very trustworthy, and Kagome wants so much to help defeat this Naraku."

"She has been a great help in doing just that," he said. "I believe Naraku fears her."

"That's a strange thought," she said with a soft laugh, "that someone so awful could fear my daughter." She grew serious again and faced him. "Miroku-sama, do you think that they can defeat him?"

Miroku leaned back and blew out a long breath. "I ask myself that often, and that too makes me wonder if I am making the correct decision, not wanting to go back. The road has been hard and battles challenging enough with all of us together. If something happened because I abandoned them..." He set his jaw, frowning forbiddingly at the thought.

"How did you tell them?" she inquired. "That you didn't want to go back, I mean."

Miroku blinked, surprised, and rubbed the back of his neck with an awkward laugh. "Ah, well... I sort of sprung it on Kagome-sama right as she was about to jump into the well..."

To his surprise, Kagome's mother laughed.

"Well, that does seem to line up with the stories I've heard." At his look of amused consternation, she waved a hand. "As I said, Kagome has told me a few things." Her joviality faded somewhat. "But still, Miroku-sama, that was probably an unpleasant surprise for them."

"Yes," he sighed. "It was... a difficult topic to broach."

"Oh?"

He elaborated. "I doubt Inuyasha would have been quite so understanding of my predicament."

"And your other friends?" she pressed. "There's another woman you travel with, yes?"

He shot her a sharp glance at the mention of Sango, wondering if she had known the internal reaction it would rouse in him. However, she just looked genuinely curious - too much so to think that she had any clue.

"Sango," he said. "There's her."

"Kagome said you two are good friends," Mrs. Higurashi told him, her voice light.

"Is that so?" Miroku commented dryly. "And is that all she told you?"

It took the older woman a moment to answer. "She said that there was something between the two of you, and that she was happy that Sango had someone to make her smile."

That struck something that resonated inside of him, and Miroku closed his eyes, drawing on the strength it took to still himself. When it was said like that, so simply, it was difficult to ignore the one thing he had been trying his best to forget, to leave out of the equation.

Sango was... special. He had realized that almost as soon as he had met her, even told her that himself before. And Miroku was not a stupid man. He knew a lovestruck woman when he saw one, and he'd noticed it quickly enough when Sango had begun to look at him differently. Her cool glares and jealous actions were obvious enough.

What he hadn't expected were the intensity and depth of her feelings. A woman with mere stars in her eyes did not lay down her life for a man; Sango had no small crush on him. Coming to understand that had sent his mind reeling.

Neither had he expected to reciprocate any such feelings, to any extent. It amazed how much he could trust Sango, and at such lengths, and then also be so concerned with her well-being, her happiness. Sango was far more than any woman he could speak of, and it was difficult to regard her as just a traveling companion. That too had caught him off guard.

"Miroku-sama, is something wrong?"

He shook himself from his thoughts. "I'm sorry, Higurashi-sama, I'm fine."

She smiled knowingly. "So there is something then?"

Miroku's eyebrows drew together in contemplation - he wasn't sure how to answer that. "I have met many women, both remarkable and ordinary," he said slowly. "Sango is the most unusual of them all. I... think she would understand."

At least, he hoped she would. He suddenly wasn't so sure.

Mrs. Higurashi hummed thoughtfully. "Well," she said at length. "It seems you've got your mind more made up than you realize."

Miroku looked at her, open-mouthed with surprise, as she got to her feet and brushed off her skirt. "I think it'd be best if you cleared your head a little, and I have a few things that need to be done around here that I could use some help with. What do you say?"

The monk hesitated at the sudden turn of conversation, casting another worrisome glance towards the well. In doing so, he missed the mischievous look that crossed the face of his friend's mother.

"I − I'd be glad to be of assistance," Miroku finally decided, realizing he probably could use a distraction at the moment. He was getting nowhere as he was, and though the conversation had cleared some of his thoughts, it had jumbled others beyond recognition.

Miroku rose from his seat and turned to follow Mrs. Higurashi up the stairs, but his thoughts turned to someone else entirely.

—

Sango stood at the edge of the clearing, feeling like a fool.

She was on edge as it was − every whisper and creak of the forest around her set her nerves strung taught, and that only served to make her more irritable.

Kagome had insisted they delay their departure another day. Though she hadn't said it, the girl's reasoning was clear: maybe, if they just waited a little bit, Miroku might change his mind, and come back. If she looked at it rationally, Sango could see it was a good choice. It gave the rest of them time to adjust to the idea of the monk's absence; an absence that would be keenly felt. And, if he were to change his decision…Sango could scarcely imagine what it might feel like to come back and find they had all left, as if without a second thought.

But, despite the wisdom in waiting, it still made her mad.

She hated the uncertainty of it, and even more, the feeling that she had been somehow betrayed.

Sango gritted her teeth, forcing her eyes from where they were locked on her feet up towards the cause of her troubles: the Bone Eater's Well. From the account Kagome had given, it seemed that both her and Miroku's lives had been saved when the well had passed them through to Kagome's world. Sango had seen with her own eyes just how destroyed the wooden structure had been, and how many of the stones that lined the four walls had been knocked loose.

"It's for the best," she whispered grimly, as if reminding herself again would finally convince her.

Haltingly, Sango moved forward over the grass, coming to stand beside the well. She laid her hands against the fresh-cut wood that had been used to rebuild the small structure. The grain was coarse beneath her hands and slivers pressed against the flesh of her palms, so unlike the smooth, weatherworn old wood she was used to feeling when she visited this place. Chewing on her lower lip, Sango leaned forward and stared into its depths.

_'What are you up to, Houshi-sama?''_ she wondered, sighing heavily. _'And why couldn't you have at least come and told us yourself?'_

That, perhaps, was the worst of it, and the reason why she felt Miroku had breached her trust.

Sango knew her feelings for the monk well enough; for all of her attempts to hide it, she couldn't deny it to herself that she wanted more from Miroku than friendship. Despite his more dishonest habits and his frustrating way with women, he was able to rouse a happiness in her that Sango thought had died with her family and her village.

Whether he reciprocated or even noticed her sentiments, Miroku had given her no hint. Everything he did to that end was contradictory and confusing − but Sango had been sure of one thing. At the very least, they were comrades in arms on the battlefield, companions off it, and friends through it all.

At least, Sango had thought she was sure of that. Now, she couldn't put together how someone could abandon their friends so easily.

_'Maybe Houshi-sama is a better liar than I thought,' _Sango mused, running her finger along the lip of the well. She scowled at the notion, her frustration curling deeper in her stomach, and she balled her hand into a tight fist. Did she really matter so little to him?

Sango glared at the floor of the well, a darker patch barely visible despite the strong moonlight. That stupid houshi! If she could, she'd go right through the well herself and give him a piece of her mind for being so inconsiderate. He had every right to decide for himself what to do about the Kazaana, but to just−

She stilled, contemplating the sudden idea. Sango let out a breath, peering more intently into the well.

"Could I...?" she breathed, gripping the rough wood.

Hope and excitement blossomed in her chest, the anger and betrayal she'd felt slipping away all at once. She straightened and looked cautiously towards the woods at her back; she was certain no one had followed her or was watching her now. A small smile slid across her mouth. Maybe, if she could just talk to him, and she'd always been curious about Kagome's country...

Anticipation began to sing through her. Sango knew it wouldn't be long before she her rational side set in a doubts began to get the better of her, so she made her choice quickly. Steeling herself, Sango braced a hand against the rim of the well and launched herself over the side.

The fall lasted only a moment.

Sango landed easily, years of experience dismounting Kirara from the air kicking in, and she hit the ground in a low crouch. She dropped a hand to to the dirt to steady her balance and frowned. She had expected something more, something to indicate to her that some change had happened; uncertainty started to twist in her gut.

Fearing the worst, Sango lifted her head, staring up through the square window the well afforded to the outside world.

Nothing but starry skies, the same starry skies she'd stood beneath not a minute before.

Sango's hope drained from her as quickly as it had arrived, and she slumped to her seat, resting back against the wall. Her nails bit into the dirt, clenching at the earth, and she took a long, bracing breath and tried to ignore the sting of tears in her eyes. Why hadn't it worked?

It wasn't fair. What was wrong with her, that she was the only one the well wouldn't let through?

What was wrong with her, that everyone she cared about inevitably left her behind?

It hurt, Sango realized, how little claim she had over Miroku, yet how much he so unwittingly held over her.

She grimaced, and scrubbed away her tears with the back of her hand. Her pride reasserted itself then, and she felt foolish for sitting there, crying over a man whom she had no hold over, whom she'd never had hold over. That knowledge, though it steadied her, did little to quell the emotions that still roiled beneath the surface of her mind. Still, it was enough.

Fortifying herself yet again, Sango moved. Slowly, she picked herself up off the floor and stood.

"Goodbye, Houshi-sama," she whispered, and then turned.

Sango gripped the vines that grew against the side of the well, using them to leverage her weight as she pulled herself skyward. As she heaved herself over the rim of the well and onto the grass, Sango realized something.

It wasn't betrayal she felt − just disappointment.


	4. Part IV: Here

****_Maybe redemption has stories to tell _ _  
Maybe forgiveness was right where you fell _ _  
Where can you run to escape from yourself?  
_ _Where you gonna go? Where you gonna go?_ _  
Salvation is here_

—

Inuyasha was seething.

_'That idiot.'_

The hanyou crashed through the underbrush, disturbing forest animals and sending them scrambling in fear. He paid them no mind, focusing instead on driving the quickest possible path through the trees on his way back to the well. For all of Kagome's insistence that nobody trouble the monk, he wasn't having it.

He ground his teeth together, and a sudden flash of renewed annoyance propelled him forward with more speed.

Running off again − Miroku just didn't learn. But then, Inuyasha reflected, the monk was always stupid and reckless when it came to the Kazaana. Miroku had proven over and over again just how rash he could be where his life was concerned − and it pissed Inuyasha off to no end. And what was more, now he'd done it again and upset everyone in the process.

Inuyasha snorted in disgust, recalling how the entire day had gone. Everyone had been intolerably quiet. After her outburst that morning, Kagome had refused to speak above a murmur, and Shippou had been whiny and sniffling all day long. Sango had barely said a word either, mostly keeping to herself after she'd heard the news. But then again, she was probably just happy she didn't have to get groped anymore and didn't want to say so yet, with everyone else upset. Whatever the reasons, everything was just _off,_ and it was all Miroku's doing.

So he'd found a cure to the Kazaana. Good. But that didn't excuse him from being an inconsiderate jerk about it.

_'Damn it, Miroku! You're not getting away with this!'_

Inuyasha didn't break stride as he neared the well. He cleared the trees and expanse of grass in one leap and dropped straight down through the wooden portal.

—

Exhaustion, once it caught up with you, was hard to deny.

When Mrs. Higurashi had told Miroku she had chores that needed to be done and enlisted his help, she hadn't been kidding. He wasn't unaccustomed to strenuous work, and even laboring under little sleep and high stress was hardly foreign. However, the events of the past two days had stretched Miroku far more than he realized. The lack of rest, the weight of self-doubt, the challenge of understanding the complexities, both subtle and undeniable, of this futuristic country, and the physical strain left the monk practically sleepwalking by the end of the day.

Despite all of that, he could hardly complain. The distractions had been most welcome. Somehow, no matter what he was tasked with, a member of the Higurashi family had always been nearby throughout the afternoon to engage him in conversation, and there was always something to talk about in this world of curiosities. It hadn't taken Miroku very long to discern what they were up to, but he also recognized his own need to separate himself from the problem at hand, and so acquiesced to their generosity. Interacting with the family, it was easy to see where Kagome had gotten her most kindhearted attributes from.

After all was said and done, Miroku had no compunctions about collapsing into bed that night. Unlike the previous night, sleep came on swift wings, fatigue holding at bay the uneasiness that had plagued him.

It was not to last.

The door to the bedroom launched opened with a crash, and the noise startled Miroku awake. He jolted upright and had nearly rolled into an instinctive crouch before, through his sleepy haze, he realized what had caused the ruckus.

"Inuyasha?" Miroku barely had time to register the disgruntled look on the half demon's face before being walloped unceremoniously upside the head. The monk spluttered in indignation, caught unsuspecting. "What was that for?" he groused, massaging the spot on his scalp where he'd been hit. There was sure to be a lump later.

The hanyou scoffed. "For being an idiot," he shot back, as though that explained everything, before stepping back and dropping to the ground.

Miroku's forehead creased in a frown as he tried to make sense of the situation. Slowly, the dregs of sleep began to clear away and the implications of his friend's arrival began to make themselves clear. "Inuyasha… what are you doing here?" he asked, even though a part of him dreaded the answer.

"Keh. I could ask you the same question," Inuyasha replied, regarding the monk with narrowed eyes.

He looked away uncomfortably. "Did Kagome-sama fail to tell you that I decided to stay here?"

Inuyasha crossed his arms and scowled at him. "Yeah, she told us. But that doesn't explain what the hell is going on in that head of yours."

"What do you want me to tell you?" Miroku asked wearily, shifting and settling into a more comfortable position. He had the unshakable feeling that this encounter was going to take a while.

Before answering, Inuyasha examined the other man warily. Miroku seemed decidedly off. Inuyasha had seen him in many situations in the months they had known each other, and seen a wide array of the monk's habits and attitudes. He had seen him lighthearted, at his most determined, his angriest, his most stupid and perverted. However, even his knowledge of Miroku in the most dire situation did not account for the melancholy Inuyasha could sense coming from him right now.

"Oi," he called, causing Miroku's eyes to move back towards him. "Is it really gone?"

"The Kazaana?" Miroku heaved a brief sigh, then lifted his hand and pushed back the cloth coverings that usually hid the curse so that Inuyasha could see his bare, unmarked palm. "Yes, it's truly gone."

"So you don't want to go back because you don't know if the curse is really broken," Inuyasha surmised. At Miroku's affirmation, he continued. "But that doesn't tell me why you had to go and upset Kagome so bad instead of just coming and telling us yourself."

Miroku grimaced, as though the statement were particularly unpleasant. "Inuyasha, the well has never let anyone besides you and Kagome-sama through before. How can we know if I would be able to return here if I went back?" His voice hushed, betraying his uncertainty. "We can't even be sure I _can_ go back."

"Like you wouldn't go and _find_ a way back if you wanted to," Inuyasha muttered with a snort.

"Maybe," Miroku acknowledged, lifting his shoulders in a noncommittal shrug. Inuyasha was right, of course. There was always a possibility, a chance to work around such a problem, but it would also be foolish to pretend he understood such things as the strange magic of the well and the ability to travel through time. Those things were beyond his forte.

"And what about paying Naraku back for all the crap he's done?"

"Avenging my father and grandfather, you mean?" Inuyasha gave him a sharp nod, and a wry smile crossed Miroku's face. "I haven't forgotten my responsibility. I suppose I am just uncertain as to how to proceed."

"Keh. That's not like you."

"How so?" he asked, his tone growing cool.

"I didn't think you were the sort to sit around and not make up your damn mind," Inuyasha stated, almost indifferently save for the way his eyes narrowed.

"I have made a decision," Miroku said, a little defensively. "The fact you're here only makes me wonder if you're trying to get me to change it."

"You think it'd be that easy just to run off again, after all the trouble we've gone through to keep your ass out of trouble?" Inuyasha folded his arms, leveling him a black look. "I'm not going to twist your arm and drag you back, but I thought you were smarter than that, Miroku."

"I'm glad you think so highly of me," Miroku muttered drolly.

"Don't get so full of yourself," he said, equally dry. "I don't really give a damn what you do, but the others like havin' you around."

"They'll live," the monk said.

Inuyasha frowned, looked around, found nothing to suit his needs, and so reached forward and dealt another decisive blow to the houshi's head.

"Didn't I already tell you not to be an idiot, you idiot?!"

Miroku took several long, deep breaths, trying to squelch the way his temper was fraying in Inuyasha's abrasive company. At the moment, he was having a hard time convincing himself that returning a punch or two was not, in fact, the best course of action. Were the Higurashi family not currently sleeping and the house otherwise quiet, he may have indulged the temptation.

"What are you getting at, exactly?" Miroku finally managed, settling for glaring daggers Inuyasha's way.

"You're a real piece of work, you know that?" Inuyasha remarked, easing back into his earlier position. "Just because you don't have to deal with the problem doesn't mean you're not an asshole for causing it."

"So what do you want me to do?" Miroku demanded, his volume rising as anger and frustration began to get the better of him. "Just come back so everyone else can be happy and pretend like the damned Kazaana isn't a problem? What the hell do you take me for, Inuyasha?"

"Keh," Inuyasha grunted, not riled by Miroku's ire in the least. "I want you to stop making so many damned excuses for yourself."

Miroku stilled, flummoxed by the unexpected answer. "What?"

Inuyasha snorted and shoved himself to his feet. "Stop acting like you're the only one that gives a shit about whether or not you live or die for one, and pull it together. And if you're going to do something that's going to leave us in a tight spot in a fight, at least have the balls to own up to it." Miroku opened his mouth to respond, but the hanyou cut him off.

"We're leaving in the morning. We'll figure out what's going on with Naraku and come back. Try to keep yourself out of trouble until we do."

That said, Inuyasha turn on his heel and headed back toward the door, done with the conversation. Miroku, on the other hand, was still taken aback, his mind racing to catch up.

"Wait a second Inuyasha−"

The hanyou paused, sparing the monk a glance over the shoulder. "What now?"

Miroku looked away, shifting awkwardly. "Are... Are they really upset that I'm gone?"

"Keh, yeah. Don't know why they bother so much, but Kagome's upset and Shippou won't stop whining," Inuyasha muttered gruffly, not quite sure how to handle the monk's sudden shift in mood.

Miroku only hesitated a moment before voicing the question that truly roused his curiosity.

"And Sango?"

The hanyou shrugged. "You know how she keeps to herself all the time."

"Yes, that's true." Miroku smiled despite himself, knowing the truth of the statement, even as a hint of regret wormed its way through him. He sighed. "Inuyasha, would you express my apologies to them? I didn't mean to cause them trouble."

"No," Inuyasha rejoined flatly. "That's your job."

Miroku jerked back in surprise, as if Inuyasha's words had the same impact upon him as another punch. Without another word or an apology of his own, Inuyasha stalked from the room, yanking the door shut behind him.

The monk stared after him before squeezing his eyes shut and running a weary hand down his face. All of the thoughts and emotions that had began to settle throughout the day had suddenly returned with a vengeance, and doubt was foremost among them. Miroku slumped back into the bed even as he faced the fact that sleep would be eluding him again for the rest of the night.

—

Sango shifted through the contents of her bag, taking a final inventory of her supplies in preparation for their departure. All of her possessions, her livelihood, everything fit into the small bag she could carry comfortably over her shoulders.

Everything was there − her neatly folded slayer uniform, the pieces of youkai bone that served as both armor and secret compartments, the hidden weapons and sneaky poisons that she could always rely on in a tight spot… She ran her fingers over each small container, silently naming its contents and reciting its use before situating each back into its place. These were things she would always know; her training was dependable, even when people were not.

Sango settled the last of her possessions and leaned back on her heels. That was the last of it.

Her gaze slid across the room, dimly lit by the glowing embers and the predawn light that crept through the doorway. Kagome's backpack sat open, packed full of food and other commodities the girl had brought back. The bamboo canisters and clear plastic bottles they carried their water in lay nearby, waiting to be filled before their departure. In the corner closest to the door, Hiraikotsu rested, propped against the wall. She'd barely touched the weapon since returning from the battle that had destroyed the well. Sango's eyes drifted and fell on the gold-headed weapon that leaned against her own. Miroku's shakujou.

They would have to leave that behind, Sango noted somberly, a touch of melancholy reaching up to grip her throat. She shoved the feeling away, reminding herself of her decision the previous night. It wouldn't do to linger on what she could not change.

It didn't matter how much she wanted to.

"Are you alright, Sango?" Kagome asked, pausing in her attempts to roll up and put away her sleeping bag. Sango quickly turned her attention away from the wall and redirected her focus to the supplies in front of her.

"I'm fine," she responded brusquely, deftly knotting her bag shut. She was acutely aware of the way Kagome continued to scrutinize her despite the definite answer. She pressed her lips together firmly, biting back exasperation, then turned to her friend with a fixed smile. "Really, Kagome-chan. I am."

Kagome nodded dubiously, her fingers fiddling with the zipper of her half-folded sleeping bag. "You came back very late last night, Sango-chan," she finally said.

"Yes," Sango said, deliberately. "I went for a walk. A long walk."

Kagome frowned. It was evident she had been seeking a more thorough explanation, but Sango found herself reluctant to share about her venture to the well. It felt almost - almost shameful, especially after how adamantly she had insisted they honor his resolution and leave Miroku to his own devices. Was she truly so fickle, in the end?

"Sango-chan," Kagome began again, haltingly. "I know you care for Miroku-sama..."

"Kagome-chan," Sango tried to interrupt, but the girl went on despite the protest.

"I think he'll come back," Kagome stated with a firmness her previous words had lacked. She lifted her chin, defiant against the skepticism that was written plainly across Sango's face. "I mean it. He'll have to, eventually. My home is a lot different than it is here. Things are more... structured, more regulated. You have to have documents and records and numbers that keep track of your identity and where you were born. Miroku-sama doesn't have any of that, and he would have to break a lot of laws he could get in a lot of trouble for to get it."

Sango shook her head wearily. "You know him well enough, Kagome-chan. Houshi-sama lies and cheats people all of the time and always gets away with it. It wouldn't be anything new for him."

"It's different," Kagome insisted. Abruptly, she gentled, a coaxing glint lighting up her eyes. "Besides, Sango-chan, I think he'll miss you, if he doesn't already."

Sango felt her face suddenly heat up at the other girls words, and she suddenly felt shaken from the resignation she'd reconciled herself to. "I-I don't know what you're talking about," she stammered, casting about for something, anything she could use to divert the path the conversation had fallen towards.

"Miroku-sama cares about you too, doesn't he?" Kagome pressed, a little slyly now. "I think it's obvious that he thinks you're special."

Her heart gave a hopeful little lurch at the suggestion, but Sango's mind insisted on the lunacy of the idea. Miroku had never given her any solid reason to believe she was truly different than all the other women they regularly crossed paths with. For every fleeting hope he gave her, those times when she could begin to envision the possibility that maybe her attachment to the monk wasn't so unfounded after all, she could remember just as many times Miroku had directed his attentions elsewhere. The only thing that separated her from any other half-pretty girl was the friends and the quest they shared, a fact that chafed sharply to acknowledge. To believe any different would be foolhardy; perhaps even desperate.

Sango was prouder than that.

Her eyes fell to the empty water containers she had all but forgotten in the duration of the conversation. Making an instantaneous decision, Sango shifted and straightened, rising to her feet. Kagome blinked, surprised at the swiftness of her friend's movement.

"Sango-chan?"

She bent down to gather the various canisters. "I'm going to get water. Inuyasha will want to leave soon."

Kagome's face instantly fell and she slipped to her knees, as though to stand too. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you..."

Sango waved her worry away. "It's nothing," she said with finality, before stepping away and disappearing through the doorway. Kagome stayed where she was, staring the way Sango had left, half-risen and at a loss. She bit her lip and couldn't help but wonder what she had done wrong that Sango _still_ did not trust her enough to confide in her.

It was anything but nothing.

—

Resolve.

It took determination; focus. After several years on the road exorcising youkai and hunting Naraku, preceded by an even lengthier period of education and training, Miroku considered himself to possess both in spades. Despite his reputation with women and other questionable habits, such things were secondary to his greater mission, and always had been. Putting an end to Naraku, consequentially ridding himself of the Kazaana and avenging the deaths of his predecessors, had taken precedence at all times, even before his search for a woman to mother his children.

But what now? The past few days had turned on its head, his priorities included, and Miroku found himself hounded by doubts. Surrendering the battle against sleeplessness, he slipped from his pallet, folded it neatly, and crept out of the house. Closing the door gently behind him, Miroku tarried on the doorstep, surveying the shrine courtyard.

Everything was dim, awash in predawn grays, but distinct. Miroku could plainly make out the Goshinboku, taller than he was accustomed to and arching proudly over the grounds, and amongst the many buildings, the small building that housed the source of all of his unrest. At first glance, it looked just like any other of the many shrines he had come across in his travels, but a closer look revealed the differences - the richness of the paint, the sharp lettering of the signs that named and described each structure, the strange mansion at his back. All spoke to the _otherness_ of this era, and Miroku couldn't shake the impression that things outside of the shrine would only be less and less familiar. Making a place for himself here would be complicated, at best.

The problem was, Miroku was no longer so sure _here_ was where he wanted to be. Inuyasha had shaken the assurance that Mrs. Higurashi had already unsettled, and he felt it acutely.

Steps heavy, Miroku began to walk, striding purposefully towards the well house. He reached it all too soon, and his hesitation caught up with him, freezing his hand above the door handle. He withdrew it and ran his palm over his cheek, blowing out a long breath.

"This is a hell of a time to get all noble, Miroku," he muttered to himself. This wasn't like having second thoughts about bedding a pretty girl or picking a fight with the wrong demon. His very life hung in the balance of this decision.

But Naraku deserved to die, and Miroku could not abdicate that responsibility to someone else. Not even to his friends. Naraku had done too much, to him, to Inuyasha, to Sango...

Just the memories of all of the atrocities that had been committed and the pain that had been caused because of that twisted monster riled Miroku's anger and burned away his ambivalence. He tugged open the door and entered the well house, picking his way down the short flight of stairs. Miroku came to a slow halt before the well and reached forward, placing his hands on the ancient wood. It was cool beneath his fingertips.

He stared into the abyss, captivated.

What now, he wondered, what now? What was his choice, his final decision?

What happened next?

It all depended what he wanted more.

He wanted life.

He wanted to breathe air, to feel his lungs expand with each inhale and his heart to pump his blood through his veins, unfaltering.

He wanted to see the years go by, to see his hair turn gray and then white with age, to touch his face and trace lines that hadn't been there before.

He wanted children, to see them grow and smile and play and learn, to see them fall in love and have their own children.

He wanted to take hold of the opportunities that were now possible, all but lying in the smooth, so-smooth palm of his hand like they never had before.

But he also wanted more. That was his nature, wasn't it? So selfish, so demanding, so willing to risk everything for something he didn't deserve, that he'd never deserve. He was a fool for even wanting it, for desiring it alone when everything else he'd dreamed of was here, in front of him.

Was he really willing to throw it all away for something he was so uncertain of?

He stared into the abyss, and it mocked him. It mocked him because these things had been his desire for a long time, longer even than he could remember. Young men did not grow up daydreaming of what it would be like to be old, but Miroku did, on the occasion he allowed himself the indulgence. He was sick of numbering his days, wondering if he would have time enough to complete his mission. He was tired of searching for a woman to be a mother; he wanted a woman to be his wife.

The fulfillment of these desires had always been contingent on the fulfillment of his duty. Never before had Miroku thought it possible to enjoy such luxuries before paying his due, but he had been proven wrong. Here was the opportunity to have and take everything that he had ever wanted, right at his fingertips.

He would be a fool to give it up, and Miroku knew it. Maybe he _was_ a fool, but he had vacillated for too long. It was time to stop being a coward.

Miroku lifted his hand, holding his bare right palm up to the faint sunlight that leaked through the still-open doorway. The ring on his finger caught the light and glinted dimly. Slowly, methodically, he replaced the coverings and secured the prayer beads that would bind the curse, should it reappear. Miroku prayed it would not, but his fears spoke otherwise.

"Here goes nothing," Miroku said, and braced himself for what came next.

With a deep breath, he made his choice and launched himself into the empty well.

And then, he fell.

—

She shouldn't have snapped at Kagome-chan like that.

Sango forced herself to slow down, measuring her steps. She had been so agitated by Kagome's attempts to draw her out of her shell when all she wanted to do was think about anything _but_ Houshi-sama, she hadn't even been paying attention to where she was going. A quick glance around was all it took to gain her bearings - she had not been walking towards the village well.

Rather, this was the road to the Bone Eater's Well.

Sango stopped in the middle of the wooded path, frowning down at the sun-dappled forest floor. What was she doing, letting herself come back here when she was supposed to be moving forward? She had said her goodbyes; it was useless to linger on bygones.

Yet...

_'He doesn't think of you like that,'_ she reminded herself, not for the first time. _Still,_ a traitorous part of her heart whispered, _it would not hurt to look, and she was nearly there already._ She could get the water on her way back...

Sango hesitated, glanced back the way she had come... and then turned back in the direction of the well.

The path twisted and turned, and finally curved to the right, and what Sango saw next froze her in her steps. _He_ stood there, upright and solid, his back to her. She blinked, breathed - not quite certain she wasn't imagining the man she saw before her.

She swallowed, hard, and -

"Houshi-sama?"

For a moment, Sango wondered if she had spoken too softly. Then, a shift - and he turned. Their eyes met.

Miroku looked haggard, she thought, and even a little rumpled, as though he had failed to get much rest or peace of mind lately. The set of his jaw was firm, betraying a certain tension about him that Sango had only caught glimpses of in the middle of battle. As she watched, a subtle change came over him, and something in his demeanor softened. The tight line of his mouth loosened into a small smile.

"Sango," he said, and the sound of her name was like a confirmation.

The stress and frustration she had been harboring bled away all at once, making way for a rush of giddy emotion. Sango schooled herself, tamping down the desire to rush to him lest she give away too much. Rather, she approached him slowly, closing the distance between them. She slowed to a stop, near enough to speak normally and regarded him. Despite her cautious hold on her self, she couldn't keep the quaver from her voice when she finally spoke.

"You came back."

Miroku paused, and Sango caught the way his brow furrowed momentarily.

"Yes," he said. "So I did."

She hesitated, unable to stop the way her eyes dropped to his hand, half-hidden by the sleeve of his robe. "Houshi-sama..." she began, wondering how best to breach the awkward silence and ask the question that came to her mind.

Miroku smiled tiredly. "Sit with me, Sango? I confess, I'm a little worn out."

She nodded, and he sunk down, resting back against the guard of the well with a long sigh. Sango slowly settled beside him, her legs tucked neatly beneath her. Miroku idly watched her out of the corner of his eye. She was a sight for sore eyes, he thought at length, and he turned to look at her more fully. She colored a little beneath his scrutiny. Truth be told, he had been considering the possibility that she and the others had already left, and that he would have to travel quickly in order to catch up. That she was here... it made him happy.

"Houshi-sama," she began again, finally discarding her uncertainty and plunging ahead. "What about the Kazaana?"

He had known the matter would come up eventually. Miroku gave her a grim smile, before shifting his attention to his right hand, held open on his knee.

"It has returned," he said.

Sango felt a rush of sadness for the monk's sake. He looked so grave - so unlike the frivolous behavior she had come to expect from him. Miroku so rarely spoke of it, and never complained, but she knew the curse weighed more heavily on him than he let on. Sango wished there were some way to comfort him, the way he so often did for her. If only she knew how.

"I'm surprised you came back," she admitted.

"Were you?" He didn't actually seem surprised. After a moment's thought, he nodded. "I was serious when I told Kagome-sama I wanted to stay in that world. It was... easier." Miroku glanced at her, as if to ascertain whether she might think less of him for the confession. Sango simply looked at him, waiting for him to continue. "I thought it might be fate, offering me a chance at something I might not otherwise obtain. Perhaps it was. But there's more at stake here than my own life."

"Naraku," Sango surmised. He nodded.

"Yes," Miroku agreed. "I realized I could not leave the people I have come to care about to finish this fight without me. I would never forgive myself if one of you were harmed in my absence. I would wonder: 'Would Sango have been hurt had I been there to take the blow for her?' I can't risk that."

She flushed at his example, torn between embarrassment and indignation that he would sacrifice himself so readily for her sake. "Houshi-sama..."

"I must also confess," Miroku continued, as if he had not heard her. "I wasn't expecting to meet you here this morning, Sango."

"I-I was going to get water," she stammered. She gestured to the empty containers resting on the ground beside her.

He quirked a brow. "This isn't the sort of well you draw water from," he observed casually.

Sango was scrambling for some sort of answer. "I wasn't paying attention to where I was going, that's all," she murmured and looked away in a vain attempt to hide her self-consciousness.

Miroku grinned to himself and decided to let it rest. It was too easy to work Sango into a fluster, and while he enjoyed teasing her, it wouldn't do to call too much attention to the matter. For all that her discomfit amused him, he respected her too much to risk being unnecessarily cruel. There was something between them beyond simple friendship, that was undeniable, but such things could wait until more pressing matters were decided upon. He would figure out what to do with Sango when the timing was more...convenient. There was no point in risking complicating the tentative peace that existed in their little group.

"It's getting late," he commented, peering skyward. The morning sunlight shone brightly through the trees. "We should probably get going. Inuyasha will be displeased if we loiter too long."

"Yes," Sango said, and then did something unexpected.

Her hand lifted, reaching towards him. Sango touched his gloved forearm lightly, fingers glancing over the beads that bound his curse. She had a look of intense concentration, as if she were doing her best to focus on him and not on the embarrassment that was already turning her cheeks rosy again.

"I'm glad you're here," Sango admitted softly, glancing up at him quickly from beneath her lashes. Miroku knew she meant it, meant it with every piece of her resilient heart, and he marveled that she was being so bold.

"Sango..."

She lifted her chin to stare at him, determined. "We'll defeat him," she told him, "before it's too late."

Miroku blinked, caught speechless by her ardent declaration. After a long beat, he chuckled and twisted his wrist so that Sango's hand slid into his own. He smiled warmly at her when her serious expression faltered in surprise and he ran his thumb slowly over the back of her hand. "Thank you, Sango. You are far too generous with me," he murmured, and stealthily slid his free hand towards the curve of her hip.

Sango's heart was pounding, her thoughts in a jumble. Her eyes dropped down to their interlocked hands, lingering on the way his thumb rubbed back and forth over her skin, and she dumbly wondered how he could so easily render her incoherent. In the midst of her frazzled state, a subtle movement caught her attention.

She narrowed her eyes. The hand she had been using to help balance herself darted out, pinning Miroku's own errant hand down to the ground, just inches from her thigh.

"And you, Houshi-sama, are far too underhanded."

Miroku laughed nervously and tried to tug away his offending appendage. Sango didn't let him go right away, maintaining a cool glare that only heightened the monk's apprehension. For a long minute, they sat there, locked in a stalemate.

"Ah... Weren't we about to go?" he queried with a sheepish grin. After a moment, Sango withdrew, refraining from further comment. He let her go without complaint, instead opting for an indulgent sigh of relief when she did not reprimand him further for his...efforts. They climbed to their feet, both feeling a little edgy. The atmosphere had become more tense than before. Miroku brushed some dead grass from his robes, and, hoping to ease the mood, remarked, "I fear I lost my shakujou in that fight."

Sango shot him a narrow glance, as though she knew what he was up to and was not quite ready to forgive him yet, before relenting with a sigh. "No," she said. "We found it afterward. It is back with our other supplies."

"That's good news," he said with deliberate cheerfulness. He half-turned toward the path that would take them to the village. "Shall we?"

The slayer nodded, only to pause. "One thing, Houshi-sama." Miroku tilted his head slightly, indicating she should continue. Sango glanced back towards the well, then back towards him. "Do you think... if things were to get too bad, would you go back?"

Miroku took a minute to dwell on his answer, rubbing the back of his neck thoughtfully.

"I don't know," he decided at length, "but I think not. Now that I'm back, it would be better to see things through to the end. It is too easy to vacillate between the possibilities otherwise."

"I see," Sango said. She couldn't say for sure, but she could understand the need for that kind of finality - to make a choice and see it through to the end, unwavering, regardless of the consequences. As much as it worried her, for his sake (and maybe in a strange way, her own) she could not fault him for that resolve. Rather, she found that she could admire him for it. Sango faced him, serious. "I meant what I said, Houshi-sama: we will defeat Naraku and break your curse."

"I know you did," he said, with an ironic sort of grin. "And we'll save Kohaku too, when we do."

Sango smiled then, beautiful, serene and a thousand different things Miroku had no names for. "Yes," she agreed, "that too."

The moment held, and they regarded each other wordlessly; something unspoken passing between them in the silence. Then--

"Oi, there you two are! You're late."

The mood fractured all at once, and they turned in unison toward the source of noise. Inuyasha stood at the edge of the trees, arms crossed and looking disgruntled. Kagome stood a short distance behind him, a wide, excited grin on her face.

Miroku gave them both a cheerful wave, and muttered in an aside to Sango: "See? I told you Inuyasha would be displeased."

Sango stifled a giggle just as the hanyou yelled an irritable, "I heard that!" She choked on her laughter a moment later when she felt the too-familiar sensation of a hand on her backside. She rounded on the monk, seething, and let fly a decisive slap that echoed through the clearing before stalking away angrily.

Even though his vision swam and his cheek was stinging, Miroku couldn't help but grin stupidly. There was still a great deal left to accomplish, and much on the line, he felt more at ease now than he had for the entire duration of his visit to Kagome's world. Perhaps it was foolish, but back in the presence of his comrades, he allowed himself the luxury of hope - hope that one day, they would succeed in their quest, and the Kazaana would truly be no more.

Maybe one day, Miroku thought ridiculously, there would even come a day when Sango wouldn't smack him for his touch.

Then again, maybe she'd hit him harder than he had realized.

"Miroku," Inuyasha called, eying the monk like he'd gone a little addled in the head, "are you coming or what?"

"Sure," he replied. Shrugging off his thoughts, Miroku grinned and bent down to pick up the water canisters Sango had forgotten.

It was something to look forward to, at least.

—

_Fin._


End file.
